My Blood on Their Hands
by MelMat
Summary: The world is a cruel place-


Visualized while listening to Zombie by The Cranberries

_**A/N**_: Though I haven't listen to it in what seemed like ages. I've always loved the song.

Child Matt POV :AU

_**Warning:**_ Violence and Language

_**Disclaimer**_: Mello and Matt belong to Death Note creators, Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata

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_**"And if violence causes the silence**_

_**Who are we mistaking**_

_**But you see it's not me.."**_

"Ma, look-" A little red-head about six years of age said, staring proudly at his loving mother from behind the table. His little hand pointed in the direction at which to look.

The young woman turned and smiled. "Aye, tis beautiful Mail." She replied in a soft voice as she gently placed a porcelain dish on the wooden surface that was so delightfully decorated by her small son's crafts from earlier that day. "Now go wash your hands and face, for supper."

Mail grinned widely. He simply adored the woman standing before him. She was everything to him, his mother, the father that was never there and his best friend. "Ok ma " he acknowledged before strolling off happily.

Minutes later Mail, all washed up , sat at the table awaiting his mother to finish the last few bits of cooking. They revisited his lessons of the day, until he made a joke causing them both to burst with laughter. The happiness was short lived as the screams of their neighbors filled the evening air. The rumbling of something massive rolling over the gravel of the street. Mail slipped from his seat and headed toward the door. The child was by nature-curious. "Mail, come back here." She ordered, reaching for him to no avail.

Mail froze in his tracks just moments before the barrier between them and the outside world suddenly crashed open. The force shoved Mail backward onto the floor as five soldiers made their way into their humble three room cottage. She scrambled toward her son, pulling him into her arms. Mail's face froze in terror. The huge bodies of the men covered the entrance way. There was no where to run at this point.

"Come here boy." The highest ranking of the soldiers demanded, his tone giving off an authoritative growl as he tried to scare the boy into obeying.

Mail shook his head, clutching tighter to his mother. The man was what real monsters were made of, evil things a child of Mail's age should never have to know. The soldier grabbed for the small boy, only to have his mother shield him. "You'll not touch him!" She screamed, her fist striking against the solid forearm of the man in front of her. The woman's eyes burned with determination or maybe it was just the shear will to protect her precious son.

"Take the boy." The soldier commanded at his subordinates.

One stepped up, a smile danced across his face as he stared down at little Mail and his mother. The small child watched him closely. The man's hand held something metal- a gun. Moments later he heard his mother cry out as her hand left him and cupped her face.

The soldier grabbed the boy. "Ma-" Mail screamed as the man's grip proved to tight to break free.

"Give him back!" His mother challenged, standing in defiance. The blood from her cheek trickled down onto her white blouse.

The stand off between the two was brief as the young woman- fist clenched tight- accelerated in fury toward the man whom held her son.

She knew it was most likely not going to end well for her. One hit later, the man stared at her in disgust. "Irrational bitch-" He snarled as he brandished the firearm once more, taking aim at the angry woman who refused to back down –even if it meant death.

The gun fired, giving off a loudest sound Mail had ever heard. His eyes widened in terror as his mother stumbled backward into the wall.

Mail struggled against the arm that held him tight.

"You lil bastard!" The soldier growled as Mail bit into the flesh of his forearm causing the man to throw him to the floor with force.

Mail scurried over to his mother. The look in her eyes told him the end for her was near, not to be afraid. He laid his head upon her chest, comforting her. A few ragged breaths later, and the heart that once beat so strongly in the young woman had stopped.

The soldier, stormed forward but was caught by his arm.

"Leave him," His commander stated. "He will be dead soon enough."

The small group of men turned, and made their way out. Mail watched them, curled up next to his mother, praying they did not change their mind and stay longer.

"M-maaa" Mail cried, crawling onto her lap. His small hand grabbed hers and held it close. Mail knew she was gone, but a part of him still begged the god he had been brought up to believe in. Yet, nothing happened, his mother was still dead. Everything in his little life – he held so dear- was gone. Mail sobbed uncontrollably spewing words and thoughts a child of his age should not have. He vowed vengeance repeatedly, until hyperventilation finally took him over causing his world to go black.

Hours later, Mail awoke to a horrendous smell, the stench of death-metallic.

He bolted off his mother's lap, staring overwhelmed around the room until his gaze rested once more on her. Mail felt his knees buckle, sending him to the floor. His hand touched her hair gently- even in death she was beautiful. He could not help himself, the flowing tears seemed unstoppable as he wiped his face with a tattered sleeve. Mail, placed a single kiss upon her stained cheek, then rose to his feet. He slowly made his way across the room to the door, glancing back only for a moment before stepping out onto the cobblestone porch. His eyes widened in disbelief for the second time that day as he noticed what evil the army had left in their wake.

Mail watched the fires that were lit some hours ago, take what they could among the corpses that laid to rot instead of having a proper burial. The tears of chaos streamed from his eyes as he cautiously walked the streets in search of someone- anyone.

But there was no one.

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**End Note**: I apologize for the section where his mother dies. I just could NOT for the life of me word it the way I saw it in my vision. Ugh, I hate that!


End file.
